


She Came From Outer Space

by FallenSurvivor



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-11 07:59:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3319985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallenSurvivor/pseuds/FallenSurvivor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Octaiva is sent down the day she is found at the age of sixteen. Great Plan. What could possibly go wrong?<br/>Or rather:<br/>Octavia has spent her whole life in a metal cocoon. Now she is about to hatch and take flight and nothing is going to stop her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cocoon

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Everyone, I finaly got onto this sight and I have more work on Fanfiction.net under the same username so check that out too. I will spend the next few weeks adding the stuff there to this sight as well. I hope you enjoy this story although it is a little late. tell me what you think. And chapter 3 will be uploaded on the weekend of the 22nd. Enjoy. Lova y'all

Octavia looked up at the very dark skinned man who stood barely a foot away from her. He was the Chancellor of the ARC Space Station. And after living sixteen years with just her brother and mother, she had never seen people with blue eyes, or dark skin, or squinty eyes. Until, that is, she was caught at one of the dances. Her mask only hid her for so long, and now it hung around her neck. That man though, just took her hand and lowered her into the metal cylinder.

"Where am I going?" A woman came in the room, light hair and dark eyes. She had a nice smile and a warmth that didn't need to be spoken. She took Octavia's other hand and put a band on it, metal and shiny and thick on her thin wrist.

"To Earth, to live. There is no life for you here." He then added softly, "We will follow you soon after."

"With my brother?" The man nodded, "And my mother?"

"She broke the law, and we never show special treatment."

.

.

.

Lincoln sat on a great boulder and chewed carefully on a bit of rabbit he successfully hunted down. During his time away from the tribe, he enjoyed the dangerous nature that surrounded him. After all, at twenty, he was one of the few warriors that his commander, head of all the Chieftains, called upon most.

He was warrior, thru and thru, and a leader, father of his tribe. And yet, he refused a bride. The Commander, his cousin, was furious. As his only other living relative, she expressed her want for more warriors on a regular basis. Lincoln would scoff at her. Told her that it was because she wanted children to spoil. Both sides were true. And yet, Lincoln refused to procreate more strong men and women to be her warriors. He was happy on his own and considered hermitry a few times now.

But, and this was a BIG but, he had a village to lead. He loved his people, and he hoped it was vice versa as well, however there were times where he just wanted to run away an never look back.

A boom from above broke his concentration and stole his attention away to a burning star falling to the ground nearby. He jumped back and rested behind the rock when great big arcs of white opened up behind the object and the thing began to slow however a deafening crash still sounded when it fell below the tree line. Dozens of blue butterflies floated around him, edging towards the tree line and back to him, never going far from him as he reluctantly followed the deadly glowing bugs. Didn't his mother teach him better? He walked faster because it wouldn't be long before the reapers investigate too.

It didn't take long to find the cylinder, especially with hundreds of deadly butterflies descending on the silver cylinder. Guess they were interested as well. As he slowly approached it, the belly slid away and out popped a small girl. She looked around, her back to Lincoln as she stepped out and spun. Little glowing butterflies, ones colored bright blue and dark gold, both severely poisonous species floated down and landed on her, as if she were one of their own. Hundreds fluttered around her, all of them seemed desperate for a touch of this fallen angel, landing often on her arms and hands. And Lincoln wanted to touch her too.

As he moved towards her, his pulled his helm off with one hand and reached out for her with the other. His rough fingers slid against silken softness that jumped away quickly. "Who the fuck are you?" She cried out as she threw her arms up in defense. The butterflies floated around them, lighting the whole area up.

"My name is Lincoln." He spoke slowly, as not to startle her, "Chieftain of the Forest Tribe." He bowed to her, hands out to show his unarmed stature. She stayed still to him as he took her hand, slowly inching her closer to himself.

"I'm Octavia Blake." She hummed back.

A terrifying roar sounded and Lincoln pulled her closer as a reaper burst from the foliage. Lincoln pulled a knife and killed the monstrous man quickly who seemed to already be dazed. However Lincoln didn't know what by. A screaming came from a thick silver cuff around one of the girl's small wrist. It was loud, far too loud. And that was dangerous. In two seconds, perhaps three, Lincoln has jammed his knife into the cuff and pried it free of her. Only then did the metal stop screaming and Lincoln could hear many footsteps.

The reapers were coming.

He tightened his grip and dragged her away, to his village where they would be safe.

.

.

.

"Where are you taking me?" She whispered as they slowed, Lincoln looked over his shoulder at her as she added, "Are you going to hurt me?"

Hurt this small girl with her pale eyes and dark features? "No. When we get to my village, we will find you a safe place to be." He then brought his finger to his lips, to hush her.

She hummed and then started off again with, "What do you intend to do with me?" He stayed quiet, merely took her hand and kept walking, he wanted to stay ahead of those reapers. They broke through the trees and were immediately met with a wall of stone.

Lincoln took her along the wall until he ordered the gates opened. His people were quiet as he led his guest through the wall. The thick wall was circled around their village, broken only by six towers that stood around, for the warriors to watch and defend from. And in the center of the whole ensemble, was a short fat stone tower. His home. The upper floor was his personal quarters whereas the lower was a feast hall that his people gathered in every evening. Lincoln nodded to his people and dragged her to the hall, then up the winding stair case to his quarters. Here he sat her on the many furs of his own kills that laid over a raised pallet. She knelt on his bed and ran her fingers through the thick softness. He watched her for a moment as she hummed to herself.

"Stay here." He ordered, pointing at the center of her bed. She faced him and fingered the blue mask that hung around her neck. How he missed it earlier, he didn't know, but it seemed fitting for her.

However, he needed to assure and meet with his people.

.

.

.

A week had passed on the ground nicely. Lincoln had been woken by Octaiva the second morning to see the sunrise. She had coming banging into the room in excitement. He had her housed at a friend's house nearby, and Octavia had entered the place like she owned it, demanding he get up to see the 'beautiful sun.'

It was during one of their mornings together that Lincoln suggested training Octavia, he noted how week she looked though she gained considerable golden colors since her arrival. And so, after each sunrise together, Lincoln would set to his duties with her following like a shadow before he proceeded to train her. Octavia huffed out as a shirtless Lincoln dropped her to the floor again, many of the children were there too, training or watching Lincoln and Octavia.

"Harder Octavia," he would say. "The Chieftains and the Commander will be here tomorrow, we must prepare you to impress them." She hoped they would send her back up to the ARC or get them to come down. However, until then Lincoln took care of her, even outfitted her in a wolf's pelt, which she found presented her hourglass shape better and left a strip of stomach exposed. The skirt was cut up both thighs to allow for the most movement and she had skin tight pants that protected her ankles well. Lincoln even gave her new boots, however she kept her own for now.

Lincoln pulled her up again, "You must learn to defend yourself better, plant your feet farther apart." He would say over and over again as they would enact a dance of hands and feet flying until he would tackle her. And now that he has taken his shirt off, she found it both harder to fight and more difficult to quench this hot nausea in her lower stomach. At one point during their practice Octavia wrapped herself around him, her legs squeezed his hipbones and her arms crested his shoulders as she tried to get out of his grip again. And failed.

Lincoln pushed himself closer to her, because she smelled of sweetness, similar to a flower he had found in a field once. And she was soft, not hard and rough like the other women here, not guarded. Lincoln found her awe and childlike wonder of his world absolutely fascinating. She strove head forth into danger to look at butterflies that seemed to have taken to living in nearby trees just so they could float down the moment Octavia stepped foot out of the tower. His people marveled at the little girl that tamed the deadly swarms. Laughter resounded around them and Lincoln lifted off of her. He would not sully her reputation, especially if that hindered her future. He helped her up, still kneeling as she stood before him, little hands on his shoulders.

"Lincoln," Nyko, the healer of the tribe burst into the hall and bowed after his announced, "The council has arrived." Only then did Lincoln stand up.

.

.

.

Within the tower hall, Octavia sat in the center of the circle of men and women of all ages. The only one to exert more power than any of the others was a woman, called Lexa, or rather the Commander who seemed to be a little older than Octavia herself and took the liberty of examining her.

"We cannot send you back to the stars." The Commander finally said, "But you said your people were coming down soon after." Octavia nodded, "Then this is a perfect time to make a new alliance." She sat back in her throne, "You will marry one of the Chieftains in attendance and produce an heir within the year."

"What!" Octavia heard the gasps. She supposed talking back was a no-no. "I, I'm too young, I'm only sixteen." The Commander waved towards the ground next to her and Octavia hesitantly moved so her head was near the woman's knee.

"Most girls are married before their sixteenth birth year. This is our custom, and to strengthen these alliances, you must marry one of the leaders and give him a flesh and blood contract to ensure our peaceful existence together." Lexa patted her head. "That is the way things are, Child. Anya," Lexa waved to a strong woman flanked by a dark skinned woman across the room. "was married off and she is now chieftainess of the Valley people."

"I," A rather lecherous old man stood and stepped towards her, speaking the most common tongue of the grounders. "Will marry her."

"No!" Lincoln jumped up. "I want her, she will be mine wife. I found her first!" He placed himself between the older man and Octavia. Octavia looked between them in confusion, because she did not know what they said, but she hoped it wasn't over her.

"I spoke fir-"

"She is Lincoln's." Lexa stood and the two men turned to her. "Lincoln did find her first, and you have many wives already, Agathor." She patted Octavia's head before the girl rose and followed Lincoln to his seat where he placed her on his knee where she stayed. The night wore on, where the leaders spoke and argued a great many things in tongue that were beautiful and dangerous twisted on her ears. But she stayed with Lincoln through the long night until morning sun peaked through the doors of the tower hall and the Commander adjourned the meeting. She awoke in his arms when they were halfway up the stairs.

He brought her into his quarters and sat her on the palette of furs, Octavia ran her hands over the soft fur, Lincoln ran his eyes over her soft skin. He kneeled behind her and pulled her so her back was flush against his front.

"Octavia," He growled into her ear and cupped her chin so he could turn her head, angled them both to kiss her. Octavia had never been kissed before, and felt that suffocating fire press up on her lungs as they pulled apart.

"Linc-," He did not want her to speak and turned her around. Slowly they both laid back in the furs, not a word spoken between them, but she felt the words in her bones. She found herself curling into him for more, and he would give her an occasional peck.

.

.

.

Agathor insisted on the ritual marriage, and he sat by the rage fire near the pelts that Lincoln had deposited her mere moments before. She looked down at her nude body only painted in red swirls of color. Something made from a berry nearby. Lincoln was decked out in blue swirls as he pulled the last of his clothes off. And Octavia learned that he was beautiful. Lincoln strode forward, dropped to his knees when he reached the edge of the pelts.

Indra, one of Anya's second's, had sat down with Octavia and explained the ritual, get as much of the paint on each other as possible as while mating. Simply put, however Octavia found the process hard to perform in public. So Anya had rubbed oil on her sex which made her squirm around, much to Agathor's vocal delight.

As Lincoln approached her, all froze very suddenly as a flock of glowing butterfly dropped to bath Octavia in blue, flittering across her skin so close that she felt the wind from this delicate wings. She could help laughing as they tickled her sides. Lincoln slowly approached her, the insects fluttered over him as he reached for her, however it was obvious that they had very little interest in him.

Lincoln pushed her legs open and kissed her, slowly lowering his body over hers. The butterflies flew up in a cloud and then lowered again over the couple. "It is alright, Octavia, after this," he whispered into her ear, "I'll not touch you again unless you will it." She nodded and froze as he joined them for the first time.

She cried through it, before her tears gave way to sighs blown into his ear and finally let out groans as he used his wetted thumb to rub between them. Something very wrong was happening and Octavia tried to tell him as heat sparked and crushed her in her lower stomach, until finally she was flying, thrown by him. As Lincoln pressed her into the furs, both naked, him shaking and glistening and butterflies in a frenzy above them both, she looked over his shoulder to see Agathor smiling that rotten grin. She found herself quiet cold when he lifted himself off of her and the insects replaced him over her body. Soon, though he was cuddled against her back and whispering and kissing her shoulder. "Mine little wife." He finally said and she sat up. "Would you like me to take you to our rooms?"

Octavia looked around, the night warm butterflies above her. Lincoln curled at her back as everyone celebrated around them, and for the moment she was content, even more so as Lincoln rolled a large fur pelt over her to hide her from prying eyes. "I'd like to stay here." Octavia looked back at him. "On the Arc we could only have one child." Lincoln's mouth twisted down.

"I want many children." He demanded. "In my tribe we marry as young as the woman's monthly child bearing cycle has begun."

"I don't think I'm ready for kids," She whispered. She had never been told about this.

"I will be with you every step of the way. Little wife. Rest now." She dreamt of her mother and brother.

Eventually, when she had woken, she found herself and her husband on their palette of furs, he on his back and spread out as she lay on her side, snuggled into him. Sitting up she stretched, a delicious ache at her core reminded her of her night before. Octavia gently eased over her husband, crossing to the other side. Only when she had a leg on either side of him did his large hands fly up and catch her hips firmly. "Little Wife," he graveled out in that low voice that had her belly all warm and fluttery, "as much as I like this, I promised not to force you." She stared down at his face, eyes still closed but brow furrowed. She relaxed back and sat fully on his pelvis rubbing across his penis.

The term seemed so juvenile, but she felt like the other names for the appendage were offensive in dialect.

Lincoln let out a breath and looked down at his little wife. "Oh-kay." He rolled them over and hovered over her, "I guess you left me no choice seductress." He kissed her smiling lips to quiet her giggles as he pushed her legs apart then pulled at the blankets to free them both. Lincoln lifted her hips and angled them to-

Yelling flittered through the window and had them both sit bolt up right. "Go," She whispered and he did just that, pulling on his clothes and grabbing his sword. She followed only after she had ripped her clothes on.

As soon as she stepped outside to find her people silent and still she followed their gaze. On the roof of the tower and the tops of the trees nestled and fluttered and glowed butterflies. Many of which already floated down and perched on her.

The old wise woman of the tribe stepped forward and proclaimed, "Tis the chieftainess, lady of the light." Octavia found it rather disconcerting when they all began to bow to her, not bend over, but drop to their knees and fold themselves in. The only people to remain standing were the leaders and Lincoln, who grinned in delight at her.

She noted how Agathor glared at her.

.

.

.

That evening, after the fanfare of glowing bugs, all of which would periodically float down to teeter across her skin or hair, Octavia was seated on a wood throne as her husband gave his usual speech. When he was done and everyone began to eat, Lincoln turned to her. "Wife, you will be mother to all of them, as I am father to all of them." He sat back in his throne as the other Leaders had left earlier that day. "And little wife, you must protect them, so I have picked out my greatest female warrior to teach you. She will also be your personal guard." She sat back and smiled.

The next day, Willow, A tall, strong, warrior woman, had shown up at her room and retrieved her for morning exercise and the next week they added language lessons in. Octavia found it both brutal and wonderful. Because come on, our muscles could do that? Octavia learned very quickly that trying to beat the warrior was quite a bit of fun, even when she was thrown on her back. That is until she fell ill about four months after she landed.

Lincoln had worried over her as the old, wise woman and Nyko fluttered their hands over her. "AHA!" The old woman yelled, "She is with child!" Nyko merely nodded confirmation as Octavia became sick in a bowl near the bed. As soon as she had been placed back on their palette, Lincoln declared;

"She'll be protected and her training will cease until the child is birthed and she has returned to good health." Although, Octavia felt her heart swell in adoration at his protectiveness, she also abhorred it.

"I can take care of myself!" She mumbled lowly as he kissed her forehead.

"But I want to take care of you." He whispered into her ear.

It seemed that the old woman thought it necessary to announce the news to the entire village and soon plans for a feast to honor the mother's new child was underway. On the night of the feast all the mothers of the tribe touched her stomach whispering 'may we be strong.' In the next few months, Octavia had never had so many oils rubbed on her stomach and chest before. "For the child," The women and mid wives would say as her stomach grew larger and her husband grew more cautious of her. Octavia grew to love him (honestly, not something hard to do), hated the kid gloves, and found that she very much craved blue berries, which she was certainly not allowed to go out and pick herself.

"I was hidden under the floor boards now I am caged in my own village." He once denied to have sex with her, something she craved, even demanded from him. At first she had hormonally gone into a crying spell accusing him of not loving her because of her heavily pregnant body. It took much consoling on Lincoln's part before he admitted his fears of harming her or the child. She was so shocked by the answer she easily pushed him onto the bed and crawled over him. She sat on his pelvis and braced her hands on his chest. She took care of his fear problem, humming as he took over.

(Secretly, she liked it when he went from his gentle sweet-self that accommodated her every whim, to that rough around the edges warrior that would do anything to hear her scream his name)

On her official one year earth anniversary, she gave birth to their child with a gaggle of midwives around her. Her child was a rather large baby boy Lincoln named Abraham and was very pleased by him. He placed the newborn onto her chest where the midwives helped guide him to her breast. She stared down at the little fleshy thing that squirmed even as he ate. "My son." It hit her hard. The emotion, the weight on her chest that had begun to crush her the moment she saw him, the sound of his cries that instantly became familiar and soothing, it was love. At least this was the only way to describe it. Her wonderful, welcome burden. She began whispering the language of the forest dwellers, roughly coming off her tongue as she still had yet to master the fluidity and curl in the tongue.

It reminded her of when her own mother would say to Bellamy, "You sister, your responsibility," And now she understood it a little more. Lincoln whispered in her ear about a sibling for their child which she answered with, "not for a while." She said as she held her son, Abraham Bellamy, Son of Chieftain Lincoln of the Forest Tribe.

She grew strong again and started once more to train with Willow (Who could still beat her while holding Abe). She followed her husband into skirmishes with reapers. She learned to kill and accepted it. She fell more in love with her family as Lincoln brought her flowers and lay in bed with her all morning. They became one mind, moving to accommodate each other automatically which benefitted greatly in battle. She flourished in this environment as a Grounder leader, and the butterflies stayed as her guardians, and her son's guardians. Where there was a butterfly, there was either Octavia or Abe beneath it.

.

.

.

As she held her son one day, them both admiring a flower Lincoln had picked for her, a boom resounded in the sky above, drawing a cry from the little six month old Abe. She shushed him as she watched a great big ship fall to the earth and land in the forest not far from them, so close she could feel the tremor of impact. Octavia turned around and started running to the center of the village, her husband met her halfway, eyes scaling over her. "It is my people." She started as soon as she saw him, "I must go and meet them." He started to shake his head because,

"I can't put you in harm's way." He growled out to her.

"This is not a choice, I will take a horse and a guard and you will stay here with Abe." She put her foot down. And so did he.

"I will chain you to out bed woman, you are not leaving this vil-"

"But those are my people and-"

"And YOU ARE MY WIFE!" He yelled, he rarely did, but she understood that it meant something important. "I would die if something happened to either of you. I need you to stay in my sight."

Octavia cupped his chin. "Then come with me. I am not leaving them out there though." Finally, he nodded.

.

.

.

(Bellamy)

Bellamy Blake had searched the faces of all the teenagers on the Drop Ship. He was told by Shumway that his sister would be on the ship and that he would get a spot on if he did a favor. Shooting a guy, he did not consider a favor. But it was for Octavia, whom he did not see milling about. He opened the doors, took control of the group easily, yet he felt the ache in his chest from his missing sister. Clarke, Griffin's daughter, made an inspiring speech about going to mount weather, however he shot her down instantly when they looked to the mountain and found only a massive crater. "Princess, our salvation was destroyed a hundred years ago." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"So we make a camp, the agro kids can forage, figure out what's safe to eat and what's not." He started before another voice cut him off. The little Princess stepped forward.

"And keep a look out for medicinal herbs." She added, "The factory station people should start setting up shelters and-"

"What made you so important?" He growled stalking towards the Princess to look down his nose at her.

"The fact that I'm the only doctor down here," She hissed. "And you don't understand how much resources go into taking care of one hundred people." She turned on her heel to address the crowd again when Bellamy piped up.

"Factory Station needs to divide, one half to build shelters, one to build a wall." Some of the kids frowned so Bellamy elaborated, "There are trees and grass, which could mean scary animals that just might take a bite out of us. So I would suggest more safety than just a filmy shelter." He looked to the Princess who glared. "A good majority of you were also cadets in training; you'll be on the hunting teams until we can get everyone else trained." Clarke stepped forward.

"And I'd like to teach everyone basic first aid in case I am either unavailable or chewed on by a scary animal," She looked over her shoulder at Bellamy, "Then you will at least be able to survive a little bit." Suddenly it started raining, and a cheer went up as everyone relished in the warmth. Clarke, still standing next to him, muttered. "We are going to have to co-lead them."

"On the contrary, Princess." He turned to her, made a long display of running his eyes over her body and felt an ugly monster stir when he noted how the rain wetted her shirt and his seduction pebbled her skin. Her nipples became noticeable in shape as she folded her arms up to hide the reaction, although the action made to enhance them only. "You'll be in my tent tonight, to talk over leaderie things, or whatever you call it." Her chest, neck, and face (All the way up to the hair line) where flushed red.

"If we only do that, then fine." Clarke turned and walked away Bellamy's eyes on her hips the whole time. They met in his tent at nightfall and talked about leaderie things…(while she was on top of him and his lips laving at her chest). When they were done, he held, and whispered against her shoulder.

"I came down on the drop ship to be with my sister." She stopped breathing for a moment as he reached up and brushed fingers over her naked arms. The peach fuzz over her body made his mouth water. "I shot a man to get on that ship to protect her."

"You're the Blake."

"Yes," He pushed hair off her neck and attached his mouth there. "But I didn't find her. I didn't find my baby sister." He buried his face in her shoulder again, licking and laving still.

"A noble cause under the guise of evil." She turned over and took his head in her hands. "But you do make a good leader, and though you should mourn for your sister, you should also live life to the fullest." Clarke rolled up to push Bellamy on his back and her over him. "For your mother and sister."

"That sounds so stupid now."

"But you will move past it one day." Bellamy reached one hand up and grabbed her hands to push them against his scalp. Here her fingers carded and tangled in his curls. "And when you do, you will have one hundred persons to support you."

"And a certain Princess to co-lead with."

"Oh, that?" She giggled. "That's mandatory."

Later, he cuddled against her back as they argued over who would go the river to collect water. "We need it for the camp, Princess."

"I'm not saying we don't need it." She sighed and turned over, her blue eyes searching his as that hot fire burned within the irises. He ran his fingers down her spine and watched her muscles tense up and shiver, rocking her against his chest. "I don't want you going down there alone. Miller wi-"

"Be here working and should-"

"Go with you." She finished. "Because you might get chewed on by scary animals." He laughed as she ran her fingers over his chest. "Or fall down a ravine, or get bit by a poison bug or-" His thumb pressed over her lips until she stopped trying to talk, then he ran the rough pad gently over her plump bottom lip. "We better get up to attend to the children out there." She sat up and he growled at her pale back and neck where he had placed hickeys.

"Alrig-"

"WHAT THE FUCK!" Broke through the silence and the couple dug for clothes and shoes, getting dressed in record time as they entered into the light to see. Miller, one of the guard trainees, sidled up to Clarke's side, but addressed Bellamy. "Bellamy, It's a wild woman."

Bellamy looked over the Grounder Person, She was strong but small, tension palpable in waves off her strong body. He could see how her muscles jumped, but she would not retreat as he moved forward. Her head piece held rather feminine features with a blue, metallic mask over her eyes stitched to a helm. Only her delicate lips and jaw were visible. Pelts wrapped over her body, in a sleeveless shirt that brought attention to her bosom in the low cut fashion but left a sliver of her midsection exposed. Her strong stomach twitched under the belt of weapons that hugged her waist and held her skirt on. The skirt had a slit on both sides cut to her thighs and giving her the maximum amount of movement. Under her skirt she had a pair of pants on to protect and warm her as her boots were rather…familiar to Bellamy. They reminded him of O when he had to stitch her boots back together from scuffing.

She reached up and pulled off her helm off, her bright eyes smiling up at him as his heart stopped.


	2. Drying Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tension! and Filler Chapter. One more to go!

(Octavia)  
Her knees were shaking as Bellamy stepped forward, “Octavia.” She smiled wide.

“Big Brother,” She laughed as he rushed forward into her arms, his body shaking as he squeezed her close. “Where is the rest of the Ark people?” She asked as he pulled away. Bellamy began to explain the recorded message from Jaha, watching her face carefully go through her emotions and thoughts. As he came to an end, Octavia nodded, her ears picking up movement. 

Hooves actually.

“Octavia!” Lincoln burst from the foliage on Nezker, the two face (behemoth) stallion of his, and shot straight to her. Octavia frowned when he guided the animal between Bellamy and her with his sword drawn. “I told you to wait for me, little wife.” He growled in his language as she smiled ruefully up at him. 

“They are fine, my brother is here.” She waved to Bellamy but kept her eyes on her husband as she spoke back. 

“Fine?” He growled from under us skull mask, “You are so far from fine my wife.” She stiffened up, “I never should have brought you. Now get on the horse.” Her rested her knuckles on her hips as he tightened his grip on the handle of his blade. 

“No.” She said firmly in their tribal tongue, this was between her and Lincoln and she didn’t want the new sky people to whisper about this. “I am not a child, not unable.” She breathed out and said softly, “You may be my husband, but not my keeper and yo8u will never hold me from my people, my family.”

“We are family.” He spouted back, guiding Nezkar up next to her. “Abe is your son-“ She waved her hand at him.

“And that man is my brother, whom raised me. Those kids are from the ARC, they are ours, mine.” She breathed deeply, “Who am I, to keep you from your people? Who are you to keep me from mine. There is no one who could keep us, from OUR people.” She took a step towards him. “Why are you trying?” He turned in his saddle.

“That is not my intention, and you know it.” He exasperated. “I worry about you, and I cannot take these heart panics when you do something dangerous.” She saw him relax a little (If leaning back in the saddle was a ‘little’) and rest his sword at his side. The surroundings quieted although Lincoln was still every cautious of the Delinquents. “Stay where I can see you little wife.” He trilled in his tongue as she switched to English to address the ARC persons.

“You are all safe now. You may integrate yourselves into my village as long as you contribute.” She breathed slowly and smiled at Bellamy and the Blonde girl that stood very close to her brother. “And abide by my Laws. Or you may start your community here and trade with my own village as we are in alliance.” 

“Alliance?” A blonde woman asked as she moved forwards slowly.

Octavia came around the animal, patted its large muzzle as she smiled. “I was married very quickly to ensure an alliance between the twelve tribes and the ARC, which are dubbed the Sky People.” Octavia reached her hand up and ran her fingers over Lincoln’s knee. Lincoln grabbed her wrist and set a bundle of fresh flowers into her relaxed palm. She smiled as he gave her a comforting squeeze. “They sent me down here the day they found me, didn’t even say goodbye to mom.” She frowned at her brother then smiled slowly as she looked at her mounted husband. “I was taken in by a village, and married to him.” Bellamy’s face fell at that.

“My baby sister, married?” His voice sounded tight, although Octavia already turned to wave at Lincoln.

“And happily so.” She then scowled, “Although he is a little too protective of me sometimes.” Lincoln huffed and sheathed his blade, before offering a hand out to her. Octavia approached him and clasped his forearm to get pulled up behind him. Lincoln always looked menacing atop a two face animal, but with Octavia, he melted back as she reached up and rubbed his neck. “Lincoln,” Octavia starts, “is the Chieftain of the Forest Tribe, and he found me the day I was sent down here.” She smiled at her brother and offered up her home to them again, much to Lincoln’s displeasure. 

“If any of them violate our laws or disrespect me, then they will be beheaded.” Octavia smiled up at him, because it meant he was relenting. She returned to her brother’s side and recounted the tale of her first few weeks on Earth as Bellamy had the kids collect their things.   
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“Reapers?” Clarke asked from beside Bellamy as Octavia sat with her in the tower hall. A feast was underway and they sat at a small table a few feet from the thrones, where the four ate slowly as they talked business. Well five, with Abe in Octavia’s arms, eating the fruit his mother cut for him. Bellamy stared at the little one who regarded him with pale eyes much like his sisters.

“Cannibals,” Octavia answered before Bellamy leaned close to Octavia and took her hand.

“I thought you’d be on the drop ship. I killed a man to get on there, and then you weren’t-“ She twisted and wrapped an arm around him.

“Bell,” Octavia started, whispering into his ear as she took on her role as Chieftainess. “I understand this was not your dream for me, and I am glad you came down. But you must accept this life for all of us.”

“I love you, O.” He held her tightly as he mumbled against her hairline, “I’m sorry, so sorry, for getting you caught, getting mom float-“ She pulled back and held him, her hand on his shoulders. 

“That was not your fault that was fate.” She smiled, “Look, where we are now.” She looked over her people with a fond smile. The young Sky People, eyed her Forest Tribes persons. She noted how some of her warriors eyed the young women from the Drop Ship. It was no secret that their community was severally under populated with women. There was even some men asking to be is marriage with a woman who already has a husbands. Although polygamy is not foreign to the other tribes. It was always one man with many women. Lincoln shook his head to the idea because that would not produce more women or children, just more problems in his mind. It was not uncommon then for her tribesmen to go to outer tribes, marry, and bring new women into the tribe. She would have to lay down some clear rules to both sides. 

There would be many children in the spring months. 

Octavia sat back and took in a breath. “Lincoln.” He looked up from his plate, putting a small piece of meat down. “I went to Nyko when we came back today.” Although it took a long while to guide the heard of children to her home half on horse back and half walking, she felt sickly tired. She ended up stumbling into Nyko’s hut where he forced water down her and started his usual check. It wasn’t until he began asking her about the past months that she understood.   
“Ah, is that where you disappeared to?” Lincoln asked although his attention was solely provided to scowl at the Sky People. She sighed as she glared at him, always wary, always quick to protect his people. It made her warm and fuzzy, though, for him to have that tense look, just like when she’d work him up and tease him.

She leaned over and ran her hand up his thigh and rested on his hip, “Lincoln,” he looked at her as she leaned over and pressed her lips to his ear. Abe squealed in delight as he grabbed at his father’s nose with one hand as his other clutched Octavia’s hair. “If you don’t stop that,” She started as he breathed deeply, “I’ll have to take you on this table right here.” He looked at her and growled out, or tried to with his nose closed around Abe’s fist.

“Wait until I have you alone, Little Wife.” She smiled wide before turning to more serious business. She bit her lip as his brows came down to a deeper scowl. 

“But I saw Nyko and I, uh, I am with child again.” Lincoln leaned back against his chair with a thunk as she sat back, cradled Abe’s head and pulled him close to press her lips to his downy hair. Lincoln looked at Octavia with a blank expression, but his eyes searched her face, to see if she lied. She passed her son to Bellamy who took him with a practiced hand.

“My people,” He roared as he stood, his chair ebbing back loudly. The many peoples looked up the steps to the man that led them or sheltered them. They all quieted for him. “We are smiled upon today, we have grown a hundred souls, all of whom will learn our ways and contribute to our village.” Lincoln nodded to the group of teenagers that sat on one side of the hall. “We are one now.” Some cheered, most eyed each other. “And to remind us of our unity, my wife has informed me that she is with child again.”   
A much larger cheer was sent up. “Which means she must be protected at all cost.” Octavia buried her face in her hands as she awaited the order. She peaked at her brother to see him frowning at her. “She will stay within our walls. I forbid her to hunt, train or forage until she has birthed our next child.” Lincoln then said to her in a much lower tone. “And you will stay where I can see you at all times.” She stood, but he was already dragging her up further along his body as his lips sealed over hers. She loved these all consuming kisses, but seriously, locked away again?

“Great Chief.” One soldier named Rollos, had been particularly kind to Octavia and watchful of her and her son, rose from his seat and bowed to the leaders. “If the Sky people produce so many large children, as our Chieftainess gives you little ones, then can I take a sky girl as my wife?”

“Any forced Unions are forbidden.” Octavia proclaimed across the hall. “Anyone who resists my judgment will be executed by way of Eagle’s Cross, by me.” She leaned over to Lincoln and whispered. “See, I can forbid things too.” His eyes glinted at her.

“You make me very happy, Little Wife.” He whispered to her as she giggled. He sat down and pulled her into his lap where he could both kiss her and smooth his hands over her flat stomach. Flat for now.  
.  
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That night, Octavia sat atop her husband, naked as he ran his hands over her still very flat stomach. “Husband,” Lincoln looked up at his title, “I am not an invalid.” He sighed and laid his head back ready for the on slot of lecture she would lay into him. “Nor will I be treated as a breeding animal.” 

That, he didn’t expect. "I treat you as nei-“

“You wouldn’t let me even help around the village during my first pregnancy.” He had to agree with her there. “If I cannot train, then let me sow with the women, clean, cook, whatever I need to do to help, I cannot ask them to baby me again for nine months.” She rolled over Lincoln and put her back to him, “My sanity cannot stand it.”

Lincoln let out a very long sigh, “Very well.”

“And I get to go outside the walls with armed escorts.” She countered when she turned her head a little as he growled. “I need to see, I hate being a prisoner.” He sighed. She won. Octavia rolled back over and embraced him. “Thank you, thank you.”

“Nyko will always be with you when you go outside, and I will always be informed before you leave.” He warned as she kissed his cheeks and chest. “And you will stay safe?”

“Yes.” She threw her leg over him. “Now take me like a warrior takes his bride.” She giggled as he pounced and rolled her over to push her legs apart.

“Or perhaps I shall feast upon you.” Octavia dropped her mouth open as he dropped his face between her thighs. 

It was minutes later that guards came into the room as she screamed through an orgasm, not bothering to cover herself as the guards covered their faces and mumbled apologies. Neither of them could care less as she crawled atop her husband shakily, not waiting for the men to leave.   
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Octavia woke up before her husband the next day, which was unusual, but then again, she smelled blueberry muffins. As she went to investigate, she was greeted with her son babbling softly in the morning. She noticed how he did this when the butterflies came through the window. In particular with how they floated over him now. 

A month or so after his birth, a particularly large butterfly, easily the size of one of her dinner plates was found resting over him and covered him completely with its massive wings. It was when she lifted the deadly bug that she noticed the curled sting at the end of its body. After this she couldn’t help but check that every glowing bug that she attracted had these stingers. “Hey Buddy.” She whispered as she took him from the bugs. Lincoln had told her they were known to spit poison as well, although the stingers were not known to him. They seemed tame with her and her son. “Let’s go find some blue berries.” He had the same ferocious appetite for the little fruits as she did when she was pregnant….well and now. “You’re going to have a little brother or sister soon.” She told him, but he squealed and reached for her hair instead.

As she stepped into the dining hall, some grounder women presented her with the muffins and cooed over her little son. However, another face entered the dining hall. “Brother?” Octavia called and hitched her son high on her back as she walked over to him. 

As he greeted her, he eyed her son, but Octavia smile at him. “Bellamy, I think you need to talk.”

"Yeah, I, I just didn’t want this for you.” Bellamy said quietly as she swayed from side to side with Abe. “I wanted you to be able to be just a girl.” Octavia was silent for a moment as she slowly walked outside, her brother following. Butterflies fluttered down and dipped around her. “Not a wife to someone not a mother. You never got that, nnever got to be a social teenager that went to school or dances.” Octavia stayed silent as she slowly made her way towards the wall where many thousands of glowing bugs fluttered, now towards her. 

“I think I’m more like a butterfly.” She called back to Bellamy. “All my life, I was cocooned up under the floor. And then, I was sent down to earth in a small pod. The moment I got out,” Octavia turned to her brother, “I became what I needed to be, I dried out my wings.” She had watched too many butterflies hatch from their cocoons in the last year alone. “I didn’t need time to adjust because I became what I was trying to be my whole life. And now, I am a queen of this Tribe.” She smiled up at him. “Lincoln has been nothing but loving,” Bellamy looked unconvinced. “That and I have been learning to fight so I may protect my family.”

As she walked around, people would nod to her, and she smiled. “I am happy, since the moment I came down here, I’ve been happy.”

“Octavia, we could all go back to the drop ship, you don’t have to stay here, with him, if you don’t want to.” Bellamy took her free hand as she stared at him. Leave her husband?

“What’s this now?”

(Lincoln)

“What’s this now?” Lincoln asked as he pulled his sword. “Are you talking about taking away my family?” This Bellamy boy grated on his nerves the day before. Now, though, he stepped to far. Lincoln could care less that this was his wife’s brother.

“Lincoln, it was just an offer, he wants to makes sure I am being taken care of.” Octavia stepped forward, their son on her hip. “It was nothing.”

Lincoln grabbed Octavia and dragged her and their son behind him as he held his weapon aloft and pointed at Bellamy. “Stay from my wife, I will cut your throat should you disobey me.” How dare he, how dare this boy try to take what is rightfully his, the people he loves the most. He should kill him now, but Octavia was digging her fingers into his arm.

She pulled him until he sheathed his weapon and snapped his head to her. “Lincoln,” Her eyes were alight with fire, “I would not leave you or Abe just for my old, non-existent life back.” She cupped his chin with her free hand. “I love you, Lincoln. I am your Chieftainess and I would not run from this.” 

These words were not foreign to Lincoln for he had heard them many times, when he first gave her flowers, when he whispered to Abe before his birth, when her stomach was rounded in fertility. When he had her in the throes passion. 

“And if you do not let me speak with my brother, my family, than I will stay with Willow, in her hut.” She took a breath, “And stay from you.” Why doesn’t she just go ahead and rip his fucking heart out.

“I will take back my words,” Lincoln growled, staring at the boy before him, “But you will never make such an offensive comment again. I protect my family, I take care of them better than you and your pathetic people could.” He finished by spitting at Bellamy, smirking as some of his saliva smacked Bellamy’s chest. In his native tongue, he told Octavia, “I will see you soon Little Wife. My Warriors and I go hunting.” She nodded, her chest heaving. Lincoln understood that she was active over their fight, but he stared at her breasts, still swollen from breast feeding their first child, Lincoln hazily wondered if they would get bigger. She stood on her tip toes and kissed Lincoln, but he would makes sure she didn’t forget him. Lincoln cupped her head and pressed his tongue against her lips, begging for entrance which she gave with a breath. He only ran his tongue over hers, then the top of her mouth before her pulled away. 

She was breathless, and glowed with a small smile. “I will be home soon.”

That Bellamy better stay in line though.  
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(Octavia)

Octavia spoke with her brother for a time longer, not another world of leaving dropped between them except for a, “I don’t like him.” From Bellamy. However, her attention was brought elsewhere with the swirling flocks of butterflies overhead. They were antsy and wouldn’t settle for a moment but they would dip down for flybys for Octavia who still held her son heavy to her chest.

Soon, after the hunters and Lincoln had returned an hour or so after leaving, all manner of animals on their back and shoulders, things fell apart. A smaller warrior, a scout who was sent to the perimeter of their lands weeks ago with his group, stumbled into camp. Nyko caught the exhausted boy up and helped him to sit as Lincoln knelt before him, trying to look at his face as he mumbled incoherently.

As Octavia stepped forward, the boy suddenly jerked, particularly with the insects around her. “Agathor and his army is on his way here, they killed the rest of the scouting group,” The boy then looked to Lincoln, “And chased me all the way here.” Octavia felt her world spin as Lincoln ordered his people inside and the gate closed. A unique feature of Lincoln’s village was the saturated well that stood near his tower, but food was another thing, especially with one hundred extra mouths. 

“Octavia take the women and children to the tower where who all can take shelter.” Lincoln kissed Octavia deeply, then his son’s head. “I will send my faster rider to the Commander for aid, but do not count on her.”

Octavia numbly did as he asked, calling for all the females and children to follow the mother of the tribe, as she also called in English to the delinquent girls. Once inside, Clarke found her and held her son as Octavia ran out of the hall, finding Lincoln on the wall and settled in next to him. The forest was moving with unnatural sounds as men started to pour out of the brush. Octavia spotted Agathor leading the aweful looking men. “You should be with the women and children.” Lincoln tried to scold her, but it didn’t really sound like it.

“Lincoln,” Agathor called up to him, “I have seen the ship fall, and I want the Sky People.” 

Lincoln puffed his chest out and said. “The Sky People are a free People and you cannot take them.”

“I just want the women,” Agathor grinned, he only had half a mouth full of teeth, “My men, they are very needy, their needs must be met.” Octavia’s mouth dropped open. 

“They mean to rape my people.” Octavia whispered as she looked to Lincoln, but he didn’t even look at her. A hand wrapped around hers and Octavia looked to the side to see Bellamy, his eyes on her. She translated quickly what had transpired thus far, his dark eyes turning black in anger.

“Agathor, I will not give you any Sky People,” Lincoln took her other hand and squeezed. Two of her boys were finally there to support her and this was happening. 

Fucking Agathor. 

“Then I want Octavia, Chieftainess of the Forest Tribe.” Agathor roared, “I hear she bore you a son. And my wives, they give me no sons.” Agathor’s pushed his white hair out of his face as he laughed with a general flanking him. “I want a son, and if I must burn your entire tribe for her, I will.” 

“Lincoln,” Octavia was shaking as she whispered, “I’ll go. We do not have the man power or resources to stop him, or hold off until Lexa arrives.” She gulped as he turned his head to look at her, disbelief written all over. “I’ll go.”

“You are pregnant with my child.” He mumbled as the men on the wall look to him. 

“I’ll get him smuggled to you. When he comes that is.” She smiled sadly. “I can’t see my people slaughtered on the idea that I can be protected.” 

“Don’t you get it!” Lincoln hissed, he then turned to Agathor and roared, “I’ll see my death before I give my wife to you.” He began ordering his men into battle formation as he and Bellamy walked through the village.

“Octavia what happened?” her brother asked and she simply answered.

“Either I become Agathor’s wife or our v8llage burns to protect me.” She didn’t bother with more though as she chased her husband down. “Lincoln, everyone will die for me and I can’t-“

“I didn’t marry you because I thought I was saving you from Agathor,” Lincoln growled loudly in English, gaining the attention of his people and the Sky Persons who warily listened as they continued their task and tensed with the energy of war. “I married you because from the moment I saw you, I found something that you see all the time.” Bellamy moved in the corner of her eye as he observed them fully. “You claim this earth is beautiful but to me it had been evil and ugly and deadly. But then the gods gave me you and you had such awe since that ship opened that all I could think was that you were the beauty and strength that everyone tells me about.” He reached for her and pulled her close. “It wasn’t the forest, or power, or harmony it was you! And no matter how I hard I try, I cannot draw a picture of you that properly captures this beauty.” She had no idea he could draw. “And you’re asking me to hand over you, you might as well ask me to hand over my life, my soul,” He reached for the knife and his belt and put it into her hand, he helped her guide the blade over his heart. “Just kill me now because I would not survive that pain.” He swelled. “I love you too much, and as wonderful as that is, love can be as much a poison as it can a euphoria. I love you. Octavia Blake wife of I, Lincoln and Mother of the Forest Tribe. I have been as addicted to you as the butterflies had been.” She jumped on him and kissed him, and he kissed her back, holding her tightly to him. As soon as she had parted from him, he added, “Don’t ever offer yourself up again, I won’t hear it.”

Octavia kissed him as they continued back to the tower where Bellamy ushered the Sky people together and Octavia helped Lincoln into his armor. Bellamy walked through their chamber doors where Willow stood dutifully with Abraham her arms. Octavia would kiss parts of Lincoln’s chest just before she would cover it with armor. And Bellamy watched this silently, unable to speak his frustrations to a man that forced his sister to become a woman, and now fought, will probably die, to protect her and their child. When Lincoln was decked in his scary battle ware, she ripped the helmet off him and kissed him, trembling all over.

“I love you too, I love you so much, and you can’t die either.” Octavia scrapped her nails over her shaved head as he nodded with his lips pecking her. She began clipping weapons to him. A sword on his hip, axe on his back, daggers, shield. Mace. “Don’t die.”

“I won’t,” He whispered against her hair. He then turned to Abe and took him into his arms. “Buddy,” Abe grabbed his cheeks and babbled slowly. “In case I can’t keep my promise to your mother,” Octavia let out a sob, “I need you to watch over your mother, take care of her, protect her.” He kissed his head. “And take care of your sibling, they need you.”

“Bellamy Blake,” The Chieftain stared at him with his helmet under his arm. “I trust you with my people, should I not return, to protect my legacy and my Little Wife.” Bellamy only nodded before, reaching out to shake his hand. 

They raced out of the tower together, Bellamy was told to stay on the wall with his people and the female archers as Lincoln ushered the male warriors together. “We bring the lady death with us today, let us carry her with pride.” He barked to his soldiers as the gates were opened and they rushed out. War cries leaving their lips as they rushed out to the join the army. Octavia found her brother on the wall and stood firmly next to him with her bow stretched taught as she loosed arrow after arrow at the soldiers that came near Lincoln. Nyko was down there too, at Lincoln’s back, protecting him. 

It wasn’t until she saw Lincoln fall that she ran off the wall, to a hole at the back of the tower where they sent a scout through. It was a tight fit, but Octavia wiggled out of the walls, bow in hand, as she ran around the side. The butterflies above her circled and swelled, descending to follow like a cape of blue and gold light. She was known to run fast, she just hoped she was fast enough.

A large warrior stood over Lincoln, his mace raised to crash upon her husband’s skull. She stopped and raised her bow, loosed an arrow into the soldiers breast plate. As the arrow flew, it was closely followed by a shot of butterflies, the main group staying above her. In a flash as the arrow hit the man, their wings turned red and screaming rose. Unnatural and high pitched. A clump of butterflies fell to the ground, their lights out, but the rest darted from the warrior, revealing him to be some mushy smoking skeleton thing. His face was now covered in massive bumps she wondered where from their stingers. 

This offensive soldier was killed by acid and poison stingers. 

Holy Shit!


	3. They Would Thrive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the final chapter everyone, I have other hundred stories but I am unsure if I should post them. Tell me what you think and I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the others.

Soldiers jumped up and started towards her, as she loosed arrows into armor with no aim. She wasn’t aiming to kill, she was aiming for the bugs to follow. They did in streaks of blue and gold to dark angry red. Some large platter sized, others smaller than her son’s palm. Soldiers were dying, insects were losing their light, but still the massive clouds of blue swirled above her like a storm as soldiers fell. Octavia’s own tribe’s warriors, Lincoln especially, started to back up and formed a circle around her as she amassed and regrouped her warriors. Her people wrapped around her, Lincoln in front of her. He reached back a small hand axe to her, pommel first. 

In the ensuing battle, the butterflies flew rampant. Stinging, spitting, and dying as the Forest Tribe pushed the warriors back. When blown horns and thundering rumbles broke behind the forest Tribe, they cheered as Commander Lexa led her cavalry past the exhausted fighters as they cut down the trailing tail of the fleeing army. From there it was a chase. Lincoln sent Octavia back to the village as his people regrouped to follow Lexa. 

A messenger that had arrived at the village stating that Lexa was already on her way after her own scouts had reported an army coming through her territories and thus her journey started. “I’ll have Agathor’s head for his attempts.” Lincoln declared to Octavia before leaving his wife in the protection of her brother. “I expect absolute protection for  
her.” He had claimed and when Bellamy reassured him, Lincoln rode off as Octavia watched at the gate. 

She wouldn’t see him for six months.

Her stomach became swollen (she took to wearing dresses since the rest of her clothes wouldn’t fit) and she found her son fascinated with this part of her transformation. He had started mouthing words, ‘Nomon’ (Mother), ‘Nomtu’ (Father), and simply ‘Bell’ and something he seemed to understand most was ‘Goufa’ (Baby). Although he had this idea that Octavia’s second child was HIS baby. Often, Octavia caught Abe patching together the statement of ‘Ian Goufa’ together and telling Bellamy as he pointed to her stomach, “My baby.” It was common to find Octavia sitting somewhere with Abe as he babbled non-existent words and used her growing stomach as his play table. She thought it was especially funny when he would use wet clay on her bare stomach. (At least when the glowing butterflies were not occupying this spot. They were fluttering around her constantly again, just as they had done when she was pregnant with Abe.)

And Bellamy or Clarke were always there to handle the harder aspects of running a village, particularly managing the sky children. (Forest Tribe children where thankfully left with a few mothers who were not warriors) .

Bellamy and the hundred that stayed, as most of the village cleared out to follow their leader into war, kept everything running. They were taught to hunt and forage by Willow. Healing by Clarke and herbology by the midwives. (Who hovered over Octavia as their charge.) 

Octavia and Abe would sit in the great feast hall, next to the old wise woman as she would tell all the hundred and tribe’s children the myths and legends of the native people.  
(Octavia had only heard a small bit of these stories since she had arrived, so she was quite enthralled by them as they passed her time.) 

Octavia held Bellamy’s hand as a pod fell not long after the hundred’s arrival, burning, to the ground. She had sent Willow with Bellamy as they left to retrieve whatever supplies where sent down. 

They came back with a girl named Raven and a broken radio.

Octavia remembered how the woman was quiet and closed off after she inquired about one of the people that had come down. Specifically a boy named Finn. Said boy had died in the landing as he had unstrapped himself in free fall. The girl became closed off, silently fixing the radio and fruitlessly calling the Arc. (She became obsessive and this worried Octavia to no end)

Octavia held her brother as they all watched a mass funeral from the ground. Contact was made three days later, where they learned that the oxygen problem had mysteriously and suddenly been fixed. (The rest of the Arc announced they were NOT coming down and not following their children. (Bastards!)) The day after a messenger brought a scrolled up note to Octavia, inquiring about her trimesters. She sent back the news of their son’s possessiveness over her bulge and a simple threat should Lincoln not return soon.  
He came back a month or so later. It was late evening and shouts had the midwives pulling Octavia out of her chair where she dropped the somewhat sown infant’s dress to stand at the door as tiny black figures in the distance crest the horizon. Octavia Immediately sent Willow to set up a cots for Indra and Lexa to remain in her chamber for the night (only  
a polite gesture although sharing rooms has never bothered Octavia.) 

Abe who was put on the ground, used his mother’s dress hem to pull himself up into a standing position. It was dark (They had lit dozens of torches and Butterflies culminated over Octavia and her son) as the warriors of the Forest Tribe and Lexa’s cavalry returned. Intermingled in them all were thin bodied persons, most women and children, gaunt and noticeably starved and tortured. Some women were just black and blue, no other color showing through. Most were shaved bald or had their hair in matted tangles and stringy which failed to cover their faces. Some were even carried on wagons, those that looked skeletal in body, only their slow wheezing of their ribcages rising and falling spoke of their life.

Most cried as they collapsed against walls of huts and gates and the tower or each other. They were not the only victims. The Warriors were just as scarred. Octavia saw their grim frowns. Their scowls deepened as the staved off tear tracks that were no doubt ready to fall as they stared at the abused civilians. 

One woman with two black eyes (reminding Octavia of a raccoon’s mask) shakily approached and threw herself into Octavia’s arms, only then beginning to sob as Octavia lowered them both, with the help of Willow, to the ground. Abe had reached over Octavia’s hands and stroked the woman’s shaved head where small golden butterflies landed and fluttered. The woman cried harder, whole body shaking. Octavia could count the notches of her spine over her back that showed through her torn dress. And could make out every detail of bone beneath the skin. No muscled here, just skin. 

Octavia was sure, as pregnant as she was, that she could carry the woman in her arms, she was just so damn light. 

When Lincoln staggered in, leading (and leaning on) Nezker, he face looked haunted, drawn tight as he dropped his eyes to Octavia’s swollen stomach. The broken woman was slumped over her bulge as she cried though. “What happened?” Octavia whispered.

“Klok,” Lincoln called to the blonde girl who was already examining the smallest of the victims (children). “talk to Nyko, he will fill you in on each of the refugees needs and illness.” Lincoln lifted the woman up and passed her to Clarke. Once she was carefully sent away, Octavia’s husband lifted Abe into his arms and pulled Octavia up to hug her. With his back to his people, Octavia heard his first wheezing gasp of a cry against her ear. Her hands pressed against his back as she felt him tremble. 

“Take Abe.” She started as she pulled back and cradled his head. “And go upstairs. I will bring Lexa and Indra to sleep in our chambers tonight.” She smiled as he took a deep breath and obeyed her orders. 

From here Octavia sent the midwives out to help Clarke and Nyko as she herself walked among the people tracked by her flock of bugs that illuminated her path, it was like a forever halo. She stopped several times to talk to people or hand out bread from a basket that had been passed to her. She would hold the basket against her stomach in one hand and rub her bulge with the other when she wasn’t giving bread. Several times she had refugees on their knees before her where they would press the back of her hand against their foreheads as they cried. The butterflies would tinkle across her arm and over their heads as she tried to calm the people down. 

And when Octavia found the warriors, some feeding the victims, others laying blankets over them. Even other’s silently sitting in a daze until she would round to them and clasp their shoulders. A few of the warriors would bring her into hugs, shaking as Lincoln had and barely keeping their horror at bay.

Bellamy found her at one point, when her basket was empty and he took it from her with the idle comment of, “I thought victory would be happier.” (Octavia thought so too)

She retired late, after she had at least seen to each and every soul now within her care.

.  
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.

“All of the villages Agathor claimed where attacked and cleared out by reapers,” Lexa took a deep breath, her eyes turned down. “He had enslaved his own people, labored the men to death and used the woman as pleasure slaves.” She stated shortly. “The children were byproducts of such treatment.” She turned to Octavia, who now wiped furiously as her sodden cheeks and eyes. “We had them holed up in their walled city for five months before we broke through. we realized only then, that Agathor had been diverting ALL resources to his army, starving both the slaves and the citizens.” Indra, sat hunched on her cot, dropped her head into her hands, her ribcage expanding and deflating heavily. “I have failed my people with this treachery.” 

Octavia rolled herself to her feet, leaving her husband and son asleep on her own palette to curl her fingers over Lexa’s shoulders. “With time, all will heal. It is the way of our people. And that of the land.” Octavia spoke softly, her voice gravely and raw as she tried not to cry for the tortured souls, the warriors and leaders guilt. (There would be a time for that later, she was needed for something else now.) Lexa dropped her eyes to her stomach and hovered a hand over her belly button before Octavia nodded. Lexa’s hand made circular motions as the baby began to softly kick as Octavia continued, “Even though the deepest scars remain visibly, they can be overshadowed by wonder and beauty. All wrongs can be righted, won’t be forgotten, and forever be watched for.” Octavia reached out and touched Lexa’s chin, pulled her to look up. “You wrote to me in letters and one of them was, “If we are careful and wary, and educated in our past, then history will fail to repeat itself.”” There were unshed tears in Lexa’s light eyes. “We can only move forward as our power over the past is no where to be found, and everywhere in the future.” 

“To the future then,” Lexa breathed, “Let us control it with an iron fist.”

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.

In the following weeks, as a majority of the refugees slowly gained weight and healed from their illnesses and wounds, Octavia found herself surrounded by sickly or skeletal children, a crushing thought as most were nearer or a little older than Abe’s age. It sickened Octavia that someone could abuse and starve such a small, innocent thing.  
Lincoln slowly told her of the horrors of the battle, he even presented the head of Agathor, just as she promised (She relished in the frozen look of pain covering his face) 

And he would kiss her softly as their child kicked. “I am reaching my due date soon, just a few more weeks.” She had told him as he once more had her put on bed rest. He didn’t reprimand her though when he caught her walking among the people and comforting the sick or dying. She had found herself next to an old withered man who cried out in blind agony for his wife and child. Octavia quietly held his hand until he faded away with glowing insects settled on his still chest. (If she spoke, she would have cried too) 

She caught the mechanic, Raven, with Lexa that very night, things were at least beginning to heal for some. The next morning, Lexa and her people headed out, taking a  
majority of the sick and orphaned with them as they went. Raven had also gone with her (To set up radio communications, of course.)

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.

Octavia had tiredly gotten into bed later that night only to have Lincoln press himself against her back and kiss her neck. She reached down and pulled the hem of her dress up to her waist, but he sat up and pulled it off of her completely. She felt him grab her hips and pull her up onto her hands and knees pressing himself behind her. She tangled their fingers together as they slowly rocked, feeling that spiked warmth he stroked like a fire inside her. After, when she had rested on her back once more and he curled around, he whispered, “I’m beyond glad Lexa and Indra has left.”

She huffed out a laugh as a massive pressure began to weigh on her back and hips. “Yeah, me too, mine husband.” As she tried to fall off to sleep like her husband had, Octavia found the mounting pressure become unbearable until she felt a wetness on her thigh, too much to be from their earlier activities. She patted her husband’s chest as little contractions became intermingles with the pressure. He rolled over at first, then she patted him again before he sat up.

“What is it, little wife.” He was tired she understood. Lincoln had not been sleeping well after returning home, but he did not have this luxury just yet.

“My water has broken.” She whispered in the darkness, “I need the midwives, and Nyko and Clarke.” Now he was awake.

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It was Bellamy who held one of her hands, Lincoln the other, as she struggled to bring her second child into being. There had been one terrifying moment where a midwife realized that the baby wasn’t turned properly, and she had to painfully push against Octavia’s rounded belly until the baby’s head was downward before she was allowed to push again. In took maybe a minute before the release of pressure and a small little cry filled Octavia’s whole conscious being.

Her daughter, pink and wrinkled was bathed where Octavia could watch, her whole focus on the tiny child, much like she had been with Abe, as the midwives delivered the after birth. Very quickly, the baby was returned to Octavia, this time on her chest where she tiredly pulled her dress down and nursed the baby. Bellamy had looked away for this part, but Octavia could care less as she tucked little Mary Aurora Todd against her. Lincoln had insisted on the names because they were historic, but Octavia knew little of history outside of Roman and Greek stuff (Bellamy’s fault).

Lincoln waited until later in the week to introduce the community to his new little child (Albeit from afar after Clarke’s warning of the fragile immune system of newborns) Octavia had even been carried down to the feast hall to sit with her husband and cradle her children. Abe immediately (and gently) patted Mary’s head, disturbing any butterflies settled on them both as he whispered, “Ain Goufa,” the moment they had showed Mary to him. Lincoln’s eyes would light up when he heard his firstborn speak softly to his new sister.

“He will be a good brother,” Bellamy would say with his chest puffed out. 

The woman who had approached Octavia (cried in her arms) when Lincoln returned home, approached her now. Wary of the men in the group and noticeably going round them to present a bit of cloth to Octavia. “It,” She said softly in the native trigedasleng, “belonged to my own daughter.” Octavia unwrapped the cloth and found a small cloth doll, with dark yarn hair and stitched facial features. Octavia brought it to her nose and sniffed delicate flowery scents. “I washed it as soon as I heard of the arrival of your blessing.” Her eyes turned down to stare longingly at the sleeping baby slowly getting covered in small butterflies in the crook of Octavia’s other arm. “With her, I pray better memories come out of it.”

“Is your husband dead?” Octavia gently asked. “Ah...”

“Vienna,” the woman bowed carefully, “My husband, and my six children are all gone.” The woman’s voice shook, “My little daughter was the last of them to go.” Vienna’s form was still wiry and frail, but she had healed of her bruises and gained both color and some weight in the weeks she had arrived. 

“Perhaps,” Octavia started slowly, “In time, you may have more children. Then you would need this back.” Octavia stated holding the doll up. “If you have another daughter.” Vienna smiled, small but it was something.

“Then, I will make a new doll, one that does not spark so much bad memories in my head.” She bowed again and slowly walked away before Bellamy leaned over and quietly asked.

“What did she say?” (He stubbornly refused to learn the grounder language as she always translated for him)

“Much, I will share with you later.” In the next hour, Abe had become more fascinated with the doll than his newborn sister who was more interested in sleeping, eating, and pooping. 

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Octavia was wrong. There were not many babies born in spring.

There were many weddings.

With the massive boost in population, their village quickly became a city of twelve hundred (half of which were freed refugees). And they became prosperous, many fields were being sown, animals rounded up to become part of farms. Clarke and Nyko and the midwives always had classes full of people, old and young, to become the next generation of caregivers and healers. And after a record number of couples announced their impending bonding, Lincoln decided that a massive three day festival should be had as one huge bonding ceremony. 

Bellamy and Clarke were some of those who were being bonded. And Willow and one of the hundred (Nathen Miller) were also bonding. Octavia stayed on the outside of these short ceremonies though, as she found that Mary hated loud noises. At four months old, she was always grumbling unless her brother was babbling at her. Abe however, had learned to walk and had Lincoln and Octavia chasing him all through the festivities. (Thankful clouds of blue followed him as a beacon in case the parents lost sight of him for a moment)

“Nomtu!” Abe would squeal as he pointed at an outside procession. The walls had to be extended to encompass the new settlement, however only a small part had been completed so far. It would bee easy for Abe to see the line of carriages and horses. 

Newly bonded, Lexa and Raven had arrived a day later than expected. (Indra said to blame those two and ‘their spousely duties’) Although Raven and Octavia were openly emotional people as were many Sky People were, Lexa was not. (Today though, she smiled widely.) And Lincoln was even astonished by the stoic Commander’s display. 

“How many children do you think will come?” He had asked as he leaned over, brushing his daughter’s cheek with his thumb as his son sat on his knee.

“Many.” Octavia mused over dinner that evening, “in winter.”

“I suppose we should buy more grain to store than.” She nodded. Their people would be just fine. 

They would thrive.


End file.
